


A Molded Man, A Better Lover

by platypusesrneat



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Artist Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Mob Boss AU, mob boss Peter Hale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-01 21:36:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20264890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platypusesrneat/pseuds/platypusesrneat
Summary: bakausagiwithwings requested:Man do I have a steter request for you. The vibe is that Peter is a mob boss and as we already know Stiles is the sheriffs son. Take that and add the song Glitter and Gold by Barns Courtney and that’s the shit I’ve been craving to witness





	A Molded Man, A Better Lover

_I am flesh and I am bone_

_Rise up, ting ting, like glitter and gold_

_I’ve got fire in my soul_

_Rise up, ting ting, like glitter_

_Like glitter and gold_

_Like glitter_

“Where is he,” Peter rumbles, ready to kill but more than that he is antsy. He is the boss, he should have complete control of everything, and everyone. It’s unsettling to everyone, especially him.

The lackey quivers and stutters but when Peter hears no answer he throws his cigarette on the floor, grinds it with his foot, and picks him up by the shirt.

“Where?!”

His roar echoes, and finally, he gets his answer. Peter throws the human down on the floor and rolls his eyes at the whimpers. What a weak excuse of a human.

With the information he retrieved, him and the rest of the mob are able to find the place pretty easy. Normally he’d send a small group and stay behind, but. It’s personal.

They break down the door and are in an immediate standoff with a rival mob, and in front is none other than the infamous Demon Wolf and next to him, a tied up Stiles.

“You’re dead,” he says, and Deucalion smiles mockingly.

His screams satisfy Peter almost as much as pulling Stiles into his arms does when he is free of the rope.

Despite everything, Stiles appears to be unharmed. It’s probable that Peter got there right before the torture begun, and of that he is grateful. His magnificent Stiles only was subjected to this much because of him and his mob’s rivalry. Peter never wanted to get him involved to begin with, but Stiles is extraordinary.

“I knew you’d come,” Stiles whispers against his throat, and Peter swears in that instant that he will never let anything bad happen to his sweet boy ever again. He swears it on his life.

“Of course I did. You’re mine; I protect my things.”

Stiles rolls his eyes but smiles.

“What, no sappy make out session and love confession? I’m disappointed,” he teases.

Peter’s smile suddenly turns solemn, and he says, “My dear, I could have lost you. You’re my whole world, and I’d do anything for you. From the bottom of my terrible, rotten heart, I truly love you.”

They share a tender kiss and Stiles, being him, starts crying.

“Stop laughing! That was beautiful you asshole!”

Peter brings him back to his penthouse, kisses the rope burn, and cooks Stiles pasta with Parks and Recreation on in the background.

“How’s school?”

Stiles shrugs, biting on a pen. He’s an art major, and his work is gorgeous, but his confidence, like with most creators, is lacking.

“How’s work?”

Peter shrugs, stirring the pot. Stiles has seen glimpses of work before today, men with guns and the hard look in Peter’s eyes after a hard kill. The man isn’t invulnerable, and today showed that Stiles is one of his weak spots, which is…worrying for Stiles.

Dinner is ready after a few moments, and Stiles moans at the taste. The sauce is just the right consistency, and the spices are not too little or too much.

“Y’know, if you ever left your life of crime and stuff you could open a kickass restaurant.”

Peter gives him a soft look,

_Do you walk in the valley of kings?_

_Do you walk in the shadow of men_

_Who sold their lives to a dream?_

_Do you ponder the manner of things_

_In the dark_

_The dark, the dark, the dark_

Sheriff Stilinski, like his son, is no fool. The first thing he did when he met with Peter and Stiles for dinner—who he knew; for many reasons, the man is infamous—is threaten to riddle him with so many bullet holes no one would ever know who the body belonged to if he so much as made his son cry.

But John also knows Stiles is his own person, so, awkwardly, he tries to make peace with Peter.

They show up to John’s house on a Harley, Stiles on the back with a sleek looking helmet and what is probably one of Peter’s jackets.

They have dinner, and tells John about his latest project.

“It’s a mural, like—a big one. Like an entire wall big oh my god Peter where is my phone I need to show him!”

Peter takes his own phone out and in a couple of taps, shows John. There’s pride in Peter’s eyes, and he sees why.

It’s nowhere near finished, some of the brush marks are streaky and paint got on the floor, but even so…

“Peter is gonna invite the guys over when it’s done, so everyone can see it. That’s why it’s in the living room,” Stiles rambles, then steals Peter’s phone and proceeds to describe what he’s planning and where and what colors he’s using.

John notices how Peter watches Stiles, like he’s the most important person on earth. It’s the same way he used to look at Claudia, and then at Stiles when he was born. For the first time since meeting Stiles’s mob boss boyfriend, John knows Peter will take good care of his boy.

(But he still has his shotgun just in case.)

_I am flesh and I am bone_

_Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold_

_I’ve got fire in my soul_

_Rise up, ting ting, like glitter_

_Like glitter and gold_

_Like glitter_

“Peter!”

“Yes, darling?”

“It’s done!”

When Peter walks into the room, he’s taken aback. The painting is gorgeous, golden and sparkling in the light. But even more so is Stiles. He’s covered in paint nearly head to toe, which is sexier than it has any right to be.

There’s glitter on that tempting smile, and it awakens something primal and powerful inside Peter.

He crashes into Stiles like a tide, destructive and strong and enveloping. He washes over him softly, too, gently pulling off clothes and kissing the skin bared. Paint is rubbing onto him too, a mixture of metallic and matte and vibrant hues that don’t even compare to Stiles in his eyes.

“Do you like it,” Stiles whispers, after they share a tender kiss.

“I love it. I love you.”

_Do you walk in the meadow of spring?_

_Do you talk to the animals?_

_Do you hold their lives from a string?_

_Do you ponder the manner of things_

_In the dark_

_The dark, the dark, the dark_

“Do you trust me?”

It’s a ridiculous question. Of course Peter does—since he got in the family, he’s trusted no other. With his heart, his life, his entire being.

So Peter simply says, “Of course,” and kisses Stiles’s shoulder.

They’re in bed, the windows letting in the moon. Stiles’s eyes sparkle mischievously as he turns over and straddles Peter.

“How much?”

It makes Peter squint at his boy. Questions from him are not new, but…

“I would give you the world, if you asked. I trust you with my life, my men, me—“

Stiles gets off the bed, and Peter sits up.

Stiles is getting on one knee. Peter’s breath hitches when Stiles pulls out a box and opens it, revealing a glittery band.

“Peter, this time with you has been the happiest of my life. No one has ever supported me or my art, or protected me, or cooked for me. No one has ever met my dad like you have, and I want this every day with you. Forever. So…will you marry me?”

Peter pulls Stiles into his lap for a tender kiss.

“Of course I’ll marry you sweetheart. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

_I am flesh and I am bone_

_Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold_

_I’ve got fire in my soul_

_Rise up, ting ting, like glitter_

Peter’s cornered. His men are down, bleeding on the cold earth. There’s a gun to his head, and his lies to far to reach.

He doesn’t accept the death he knows comes, but. He accepts he cannot escape it now.

Then there’s a flash and his would be murderer is down, a bullet striking them dead.

“Peter!”

It’s his Stiles, at his side, holding a gun in one hand and pulling Peter up with the other. His leg was injured during the fight, so he relies on Stiles to help him to the Jeep.

“How,” he has to ask. His voice is raspy from yelling.

“I made Boyd tell me. Y’know, for the scariest man in west America, you sure are dumb.”

Peter huffs a laugh, then erupts into a coughing fit.

“Don’t worry,” Stiles murmurs into his ear. “You’re safe."

And for the first time, possibly ever, Peter feels it.

_I am flesh and I am bone_

_Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold_

_I’ve got fire in my soul_

_Rise up, ting ting, like glitter_

Peter arrives to the charity event all charm, with Stiles at his side. In the public eye, Peter is a philanthropist businessman, always giving back to the community. As such, he is frequently invited to events.

He usually hates the atmosphere—but something beckons to him one night. The auction is about to start when he arrives.

He ends up purchasing a painting for Stiles to take to his apartment, because he can’t move in until after he finishes school.

Stiles drinks a lot of champagne flutes, and becomes more than a little tipsy as the night progresses.

“You’re hot,” Stiles yells more than once in his ear, “Wanna date?”

Peter pretends to think about it, then shows Stiles the ring. He bursts into tears until Peter explains that, truly, they’ve been together for a long time and are very happy.

When they arrive to his penthouse Peter thanks the driver and picks Stiles up (slowly, so he doesn’t get puked on).

He helps Stiles shed his clothes and crawl into bed. I’m the morning, Peter will make him chocolate chip pancakes and let him complain all about his headache. He hopes he has a lifetime to cherish Stiles even more.

_‘Cause everybody’s in the backroom’s_

_Spinning up_

_Don’t know what you’re asking for_

_And everybody’s in the front room’s_

_Tripping out_

_You left your bottle at the door_

“Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Peter says.

“How’d you become the big honcho anyways? Doesn’t seem like something that just happens overnight, y’know?”

Peter hums in agreement.

“Well, you see…you know about the fire, about losing my family, about the facial reconstruction surgery. After losing everything and everyone and even more to hospital bills, I was desperate. Desperate enough to look for help where I shouldn’t have.”

“Sounds sketchy.”

“It was. They’d have me do things that scared me, but eventually I became used to it. The family became my life, but then the cops found us.”

“Before dad?”

“Before your dad, yes. They threw everyone into jail, but I was new enough they didn’t have anything to hold me with. They let me go and a handful of others. Our leader, however, was murdered in jail.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, everyone was thirsty for blood. But it was anarchy, brother fighting brother, so I stepped in and came up with a plan. My first one was to win over the cops. The second one was killing our old boss’s murderer.”

“Then what?”

“With my leadership, we did both. We donated to charities, even to the cops directly, and managed to bribe one of them to kill one of their own. We dealt among ourselves quietly for years then, but well, new police force got hired.”

Peter looks at Stiles, really looks at him.

“I’m not leaving them. Not for a long while, because, like I needed them, they need me.”

“I know.”

“But I will. For you, I’d do anything.”

Stiles closes his eyes and buries his face into Peter’s neck.

“I know.”

_'Cause everybody’s in the backroom’s_

_Spinning up_

_Don’t know what you’re asking for_

_And everybody’s in the front room’s_

_Tripping out_

_You left your bong at the door_

Peter and some of his men (some of Stiles’s closest friends, by now) are front row during his graduation ceremony. They made little signs with his name on them and everything. Peter is wearing a golden suit, looking smug as hell, and Stiles is so happy.

When his name is finally called he almost trips over his gown from running. He did it! It’s like he’s dreaming. He punches himself just to make sure he isn’t.

After the ceremony is done, Peter drives them to Stiles’s little apartment. They usually stay at Peter’s, because it’s nicer, but Peter wants to spoil Stiles there.

“I ordered your favorite food, it’ll be here any minute.”

A hungry look passed over Peter’s face, and Stiles shivers.

“But until then…”

_I am flesh and I am bone_

_Arise, ting ting, like glitter and gold_

_I’ve got fire in my soul_

_Rise up, ting ting, like glitter_

_Like glitter and gold_

_Like glitter_

_Like glitter and gold_

_Like glitter_


End file.
